


Show Me To The Ocean Of Love

by Loopie_Lupie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Omega!Qui-Gon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopie_Lupie/pseuds/Loopie_Lupie
Summary: Thanks to a faulty implant, Qui-Gon is mid mission when he realizes he's starting into a heat. What is he to do when the Alpha the Jedi Council sends to him is none other than his former Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi...the man he has been secretly in love with for years now.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Mace Windu, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 32
Kudos: 87





	1. So It Begins

Waking with a groan, Qui-Gon curled into a ball on his bed, one hand moving to push roughly against his lower belly just above the pubic bone. This should not be starting so soon. He still had almost two months before his implant needed to be replaced and if he did it on time, he shouldn't be dealing with this at all.

He still had negotiations between the warring factions that morning that needed his focus. Pulling in a slow deep breath, the brunet drew upon the Force and did his best to release the pain. He was still aware of it, but he could function through the pain without it being obvious to anyone around him.

Still, he knew that he should alert the council to a failure in his suppressants implant. Sitting up, he grabbed his holopad and tapped out a quick message to the council. They needed to be alerted to the faulty batch so that they could make sure that anyone else with those implants could be given oral suppressants until they could get back to the temple for new implants. 

Of all the issues that being an Omega caused, Qui-Gon was most bothered by the sharp cramps that hit when the hormones of his implant dropped too low. It wasn't something he dealt with very often thanks to the implants. In fact it’d been years since he last dealt with all of this, but it was what it was and he would handle everything to the best of his abilities. 

He would not fail this mission. 

Hitting the fresher, he saw to his morning routine as usual. Though he did apply just a little extra cologne to help make sure that no one noticed any change in him. The Skitalans weren't known to have the secondary genders that most humanoids did, some suspected it had to do with them being reptilian instead of mammalian, but he wasn't sure they wouldn't pick up on the hormone change. It was better to err on the side of caution. 

Dropping the ‘pad back on his bed, he headed for the meeting hall. Thankfully the Skitalans were very good about making sure that there were refreshments available at all times so he didn't need to worry much about finding breakfast. Whatever they served would be good enough as far as he was concerned. 

When he stepped into the meeting hall, Qui-Gon dropped easily to one knee, as he had each day since his arrival on this planet. Head bowing to make himself shorter than the elders, he waited for the short trilling note that told him they recognized his show of respect and honor before he stood again. He had close to a half a meter on the tallest of the Skitalans, but thankfully they understood it wasn’t something he could control and he’d been allowed to stand after showing the proper respect.

The Jedi Master moved to sit down on the wide pillow that had been set out for him at the side of the table that one of the servants had explained it was to show he was neutral and didn’t offer support to any side in particular. One of the Skitalan servants stepped forward with a tray laden with several fruits and nuts as well as a cup and carafe of some sort of fragrant drink that Qui-Gon hadn’t quite managed to find the will to ask about. Nodding his thanks to the young male Skitalan, he got a slight wiggle in the loose scales that the files had said were their noses. Apparently it was used similarly as a smile and he was glad that the server had appreciated his recognition of them before they headed back out of the room again.

He was also thankful that they had read up on human diets and hadn’t served him any of the insectoids that they all seemed to enjoy. While Qui-Gon had eaten bugs several times over the years on various missions, he much preferred when it was done as a survival technique and not something one did on a whim. The fruits and nuts, or perhaps they were seeds, were much more palatable for the brunet and he had made sure to let the Skitalans know he appreciated their kindness in changing the food they gave him.

Breath catching for a heartbeat as another shock of pain struck through him, the brunet kept his face carefully neutral as he focused on trying to breathe through the pain. Of all the times for his implant to fail, he suspected that one of the worst times would be when trying to work out fair worker rights to avoid the slaughter of unruly workers with a species who used hissing, grunting, and other similar sounds to express displeasure or even threat. As he currently was.

Reaching for the carafe, he poured himself a drink and glanced around the room to verify that the elders were eating already and that he was safe to follow suit. Glad that they were, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a deep sip of the strongly flavored fluid. It wasn’t bad, not even objectionable really, but it was very strong and much sweeter than he preferred. Oh how he missed tea after the last week on this planet. 

Qui-Gon suspected it would be another several days, possible another week or two, before any real progress was made. If he were being honest with himself, and he supposed he ought be, it would be at least another week and a half on this planet with a heat settling in. He doubted there would be anyone near enough to bring him any oral suppressants within the next day or two and then he’d be unable to partake in the peace talks for at least four days when his heat fully enveloped him. And these talks would never make progress without him there to mediate and keep them from becoming too emotional and devolving into threats as they’d done multiple times over the first couple of days he’d been there on Skitali.

Picking at his food, always careful to make sure that he left more than enough room to speak clearly around whatever was in his mouth so he could interject at any moment, Qui-Gon did his best to try to help the talks along. It would help if they weren’t all so damn long winded, taking a couple dozen words to say what less than five could. Alas, it wasn’t his job to make these happen quickly. His focus was simply on making sure this didn’t devolve into a massacre of hundreds, of not thousands, who simply wanted to know they weren’t going to go hungry or be injured senselessly while mining the minerals that the Skitalans traded with the rest of the Republic.

The day felt as if it took forever to end, the speakers for each side arguing for their own views and near completely ignoring the suggestions from the other. By the time they’d finished for the night, the only concession the elders gave was that they agreed that those who had yet to reach majority and those who were carrying the next generation would be exempt from any punishment of workers. Which he supposed was at least some improvement over the previous allowance of one’s punishment being dished out on their entire lineage. It would help their future interactions with the Republic as well, which was something the Jedi suspected had helped encourage the elders to agree to the proposition by the workers.

Still, he was relieved when he was finally allowed to return to the rooms he’d been assigned. A servant had left him another carafe of the overly sweet juice and a platter of food. He suspected it was the same one from that morning as they’d left more of the items that he’d eaten more quickly, ones that he had enjoyed the most. While he appreciated it, he wasn’t sure how to let the other know since he didn’t have any flimsi to leave a note for whoever it was that came to get his dishes in the morning.

Settling on the cushion next to the low table with his evening meal after grabbing his holopad, the brunet poured himself a drink. He’d spent most evenings reading as of late, but he wasn’t terribly surprised to see that he had a returned message from the Council. While normally he would allow the message to play as the hologram it was sent as, with his privacy not as guaranteed as he would have liked, he pulled up the transcript instead.

_There is a Knight available, nineteen hours out. They will have oral suppressants and in the chance they do not arrive in time for the suppressants to be of use, they are on your list of compatible Alphas._

Sighing heavily, he set the ‘pad down on the table. After taking a few moments to eat some food and clear his mind, releasing his frustration with his current circumstances to the Force, he checked for the time stamp from the Council. At least the Council hadn’t wasted any time on their response to the failed implant as the reply had come all but a half hour after he had sent his. Still, nineteen hours from that time meant that the Knight they’d sent wouldn’t be there until almost sunrise the next morning. 

He wondered who it might be since they hadn’t bothered to name them and he just hoped they would be there in time for the suppressants to be useful to him. Sadly, it was almost impossible to tell just how strongly his hormones had increased until he was either fully in heat or around a compatible Alpha. Even if he had little use for an Alpha, he understood why they had opted into sending one his way. These talks were important, they couldn’t let them fall apart. A day’s break could be made up for much easier than a week could be. One could only imagine how badly things could go if the Skitalans tried to continue the discussions without a mediator. And it’d taken him three days to get them to listen to him as a neutral party to start with, so sending in another to take over the talks wasn’t likely to go well either.

Finishing his meal, the tall man headed for the ‘fresher. He’d been quite happy to learn that water was one of the few unlimited resources on this planet, meaning that he had access to a good water shower. The year and a half of healing and rehab after Naboo, wherein he’d been stuck in the Temple on Coruscant, had left him somewhat spoiled and with a noticeable distaste for sonic baths. This was his first mission, one only allowed because both the elders and workers had sworn to his safety, and he was glad he hadn’t had to give up all the niceties of Temple life quite instantly.

Though he’d trade his clothes for a bed long enough to actually fit on.

Alas, the Skitalans were quite a petite race and he was stuck with his lower legs hanging off the bed. Sadly, that wasn’t the worst sleeping place he’d faced over the numerous missions he’d been on. 

Still, the shower made up for some of it. He’d learned the first night that it was more than easy to burn himself with their showers, something that he should have suspected with their thick scales. Now, he was careful about just how high he turned the water. It was quite nice to let the hot water pound down over his back and warm his whole body, relaxing sore muscles.

After a few indulgent minutes in the shower, he quickly dealt with the actual cleaning that excused him using the water. He dried himself off before taking care of his hair, combing out any knots and then neatly braiding it so that it wouldn’t be a mess in the morning. After all, most of the time the steadily climbing hormones left him suffering dreams that lead to tossing and turning at the very least.

Qui-Gon picked up his holopad and tapped out a quick response that said little more than that he understood their decision. With that done, he pulled up the mystery novel he’d started the night before to read until he was tired enough to actually get some sleep in.

Eventually sleep pulled at him and he set the ‘pad off to the side and settled himself as comfortably as he could on the too short sleeping pad. And while he couldn’t recall exactly what his dreams had consisted of, he still knew the basics of what they’d likely consisted of. Heat dreams were almost always of the same sort of things, and with the way he could still imagine vibrant green eyes much too clearly, he had no reason to doubt they had been the same as always. 

Drawing on the Force, he made his body relax, releasing his frustrations as he’d been trained to. He could still think as the lust cleared his mind, so he was at least relieved that he wasn’t lost in the annoying haze of desire yet. It would at least give him time to greet his fellow Jedi and attempt taking the suppressants to stop all of this in its tracks. 

Rolling out of bed, he put on his outer tunics and his cloak before heading down to the landing platforms. If the Council was right, then the transport carrying the Knight would be there soon and he’d like to be there right away. No reason to wait any longer than absolutely necessary to get those suppressants on board.

He settled on the ground to wait, sitting cross legged and pulling on the Force as he sank into meditation. It gave him a little more time to rest before needing to go before the Skitalans again. And as he sat there, he wasn’t sure whether he’d gotten more rest on the bed in his rooms or by sitting there on the floor.

When the air started to churn, he pulled himself back up from the peace and calm of his meditation to watch the incoming ship. It was a small transport, but nice enough and he unfolded from where he’d been sitting as it landed. Stepping forward to greet whoever it was, he could say definitively that as much as he’d prepared himself for whatever Alpha was sent to him, he was actually not prepared for who emerged from the ship. Even with the beard growing in, he would have recognized the man who stepped out of transport, those beautifully vibrant green eyes giving him away in a heartbeat.

Qui-Gon was going to _kill_ Mace Windu.


	2. A Tough Discussion

Of all the compatible Alphas on the list he knew the Council had full access to for him, why did it have to be his old Padawan that they sent him? Any other Alpha would have been better in his opinion. Though, seeing as Mace was the only one who knew about his attachment to Obi-Wan, it had likely been the redhead's distance that had decided he would be the one sent to Qui-Gon. 

Still, Mace should have argued for another Alpha to be sent. Surely there were acceptable reasons to avoid sending Obi-Wan to deal with the possibility of Qui-Gon's heat. The attachment he had to his former Padawan, unacceptable as it was, could at least be ignored as always. In fact, Mace hadn't seen a need for reporting it to the Council as Qui-Gon had never allowed it to affect their missions, only inquiring after Obi-Wan's health if he heard a mission went wrong. The Jedi Master had never let himself ask to be paired with the young Knight, never suggested that Obi-Wan wasn't suited for a mission or insisted that he be given back up that wasn't requested by Obi-Wan first.

But this? How did one handle being touched in a way they had dreamed of for years when nothing else could ever come of it?

Drawing in a slow, deep breath to center himself, Qui-Gon plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he stepped up to the ship. Hopefully Obi-Wan would chalk his mood up to the stress and discomfort of an oncoming heat.

"Welcome to Skitali, Knight Kenobi." The brunet was relieved to see that Obi-Wan looked to be in good shape, no obvious injuries or weight loss.

"You can still call me Obi-Wan." Giving a smile of his own as he stepped onto the landing pad proper, Obi-Wan ran a hand through his messy hair as if trying to straighten it out.

"If you insist." His smile felt a little less forced just from the easy smile he got from the young man. "If you come with me, I'll show you to my rooms so we can talk in private."

Qui-Gon was glad that Obi-Wan could still read the subtext in his words and that he didn't need to explain that he hadn't told the Skitalans about his current condition yet. The redhead had simply nodded and moved to fall in step. Normally, the silence between them would have been comfortable, but right now, Qui-Gon just couldn't quite relax. 

Oh, how he prayed that Obi-Wan had managed to get him oral suppressants and that they had gotten here soon enough to stop everything in its tracks. It was a much more preferable outcome; even if it meant he'd be stuck going through a slightly more physically uncomfortable heat once the mission was over and he was back safely in the Temple. 

Honestly, he hated that he had to suffer through all of this at all. Alas, there was little one could do when their secondary gender finally showed through. During his youth, everyone assumed he would be a Beta because of his personality. When puberty struck and he presented as an Omega, everyone was shocked. Even his Master hadn’t expected him to be anything but a Beta. Thanks to the suppressants along with his size and attitude, he passed a Beta to anyone outside the Order which made missions easier for the most part.

Of course this mission had gone to hell all the same thanks to a faulty implant and now he had to deal with Obi-Wan’s presence while trying to handle the surge of hormones.

Once they got to the rooms that Qui-Gon had been given, he shut the door behind them both and locked it. The brunet moved to sit on the bed, trying to stay calm even when he wanted to demand the pills from his Padawan. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for long as Obi-Wan shrugged the bag he was carrying off his shoulder and started to dig in it.

“I’m not sure if I’m here early enough for them to help, but we stopped off at Täth to grab them for you.” Obi-Wan finally pulled out the little container of pills and tossed them to Qui-Gon before he set the pack on the ground and took a seat on the cushion next to the low table.

“Thank you.” Qui-Gon’s voice was heavy with his appreciation as he opened the bottle and popped one of the tablets in his mouth.

Dry swallowing pills had never been his favorite way to take them, if only because it left his throat feeling awkwardly dry, but he wanted the medication down now. There was no way to guarantee if he’d gotten the meds in time. They were in the waiting game now and Qui-Gon feared the ramifications of what might happen if the suppressants didn’t work.

"I was warned that I might not be here early enough to get you the suppressants, does that mean I'll be taking over the meetings for you if they don't work?" Obi-Wan looked calm as he sat there, clearly comfortable with the idea of jumping into the mediation.

If only his role were that simple in all of this. 

Sighing softly, Qui-Gon shook his head and cursed Mace silently for apparently leaving all the explanation to him. "No. The Skitalans won't trust your opinion, Obi-Wan, they barely trust mine."

Russet brows drew together slightly as Obi-Wan looked up at his former Master. "They said I'd be here for a few days…"

"If the suppressants work, you'll be free to leave tomorrow afternoon." 

"And if they don't?" 

The redhead's confusion was too familiar on that beautiful face and Qui-Gon had to hide a smile so he didn't destroy the seriousness of this discussion. Shaking his head slightly, he gave a heavy sigh and made a mental note to rip into the Council about not preparing young Alpha Knights before sending them to Omegas in need.

"Haven't you completed the Knight's course on secondary biology?" 

Normally within a couple months all Knights completed the course as one never knew when they might be sent to tend to an Omega or require tending themselves. He still wasn't sure he agreed with waiting until one passed their trials, but the Order claimed that it was distracting to the Padawans and lead to a higher chance of attachments being formed between those who spent time around one another regularly. 

Looking down, Obi-Wan shook his head a bit, "No, I haven't. I've barely spent more than a day at a time on Coruscant…"

How had he forgotten that the Order had kept Obi-Wan on the go since his Knighting? Scratching at his beard lightly, Qui-Gon nodded and just barely managed to avoid groaning in frustration. 

"Alright, I guess you're getting a crash course in all of this." The Onega just prayed that he could get through all of this without either of them getting too flustered. "The Order allows Omegas to take solo missions so long as we have a list of compatible Alphas in case our implants fail."

Green eyes raised to him, confusion giving way to shock. "But we don't know if we're…"

"I know."

"What? But I've never been around you when you were dealing with your heat." Qui-Gon wasn't at all surprised by how sure Obi-Wan sounded about that.

"That was on purpose, Obi-Wan." Drawing in a deep breath, he rubbed at his thighs lightly in an attempt to ignore the guilt that struck through him at the surprise in the young man's eyes. "I went into a heat when you were almost seventeen. I didn't expect it to be a problem until I woke up and could smell you even with my door shut. So I contacted Mace and he sent Billaba to take you away for a while so I could handle the heat without making any inappropriate decisions."

Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon silently for a long moment before he swallowed and took a deep breath to speak. "The survival training for swamp climates."

"Yes." 

"And you told the Council that we are…" The redhead trailed off, the pinking on his cheeks half hidden by his beard.

"Its a requirement. Especially with you being underage and my Padawan at the time. In the possibility of my implant being damaged or faulty while on a mission, they needed to be aware so that you could be kept away from me." While he had taken offense at the original insinuation that he would do wrong by his Padawan, eventually he had come to accept they might have a point with how attached he'd gotten to Obi-Wan during the last couple years of his Padawanship. 

"Then...why did they send me now?" The innocent confusion made Qui-Gon's chest feel tight for a moment.

"Because you are now a Knight and I have no power over you." Qui-Gon's voice was carefully controlled so as to make sure he sounded unbothered by that small fact.

"I don't-" Head ducking, Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment as he thought about what had been said. His head suddenly snapped up, green eyes wide in shock. "I was sent because we are compatible, wasn't I?"

Drawing in a slow breath, wishing it did more to center him than it did over this particular topic, Qui-Gon gave a slow nod. Oh, how he wished he could deny that! Alas, there was little use in lying for the Council would be receiving a mission report from Obi-Wan as well and explaining to them why he'd not explained the secondary duty expected of the Alpha would put him in a situation he didn't care to face. Still, he wouldn't leave his former Padawan thinking he had no choice in this matter.

"Not that it is required. Even if we are compatible, I would never take away someone's right to their own body." His hands curled tightly against the edge of his tunic as a soft scent started to register on him telling him that those suppressants had gotten to him too late. Qui-Gon's head tipped forward and his eyes closed as he heaved a sigh. "However, you'll need to make a decision soon."

Green eyes blinked owlishly at him. "But the suppressants…"

"Didn't get here in time. It happens, Obi-Wan. You tried, and no one can fault you for that.” It took more effort to smile calmly at the redhead than Qui-Gon appreciated, but there was nothing to do about it.

Once again the younger Jedi looked down at his lap, his hands curling into fists against his thighs as he sat there. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was the one who failed to notice the failure of my implant in time for oral suppressants to reach me.” Which made him realize that perhaps he shouldn’t rely on the implant quite so much and should carry his own oral dose for safety. 

“Still, I-”

“Did all you could, Padawan,” The old nickname slipped from him without him intending for it to do so, his self-control a little less precise than it usually was.

Head snapping up, Obi-Wan’s cheeks were lightly pink and Qui-Gon found himself feeling bad for embarrassing the young Knight. “What… would you prefer?”

Blue eyes widening, Qui-Gon was at a loss for words for several moments. As many times as he’d had to suffer through a heat during his life, he really couldn’t recall being asked that particular question. Those he’d lain with during these times had all treated this as if it were but another duty of being Jedi, nothing more than playing a role on a mission. And there was an expected way for this to go down each and every time; the Omega was to present and allow themselves to be mounted by an Alpha to shorten their heat and get them back to their missions as quickly as possible.

The mere idea of being asked of his preferences floored the older Jedi and he hated the way his heart skipped a beat and his chest tightened. He would prefer that this wasn’t something that was needed. That this was wanted by his old Padawan. There was no hope of that though and so he had to make himself content with what he was given. What little of this dream he could have.

Drawing upon the Force to soothe himself, Qui-Gon blew out a heavy breath through his nose to clear his senses in an attempt to think clearly. “Of those I’m compatible with, I can say I enjoy your company more than most.”

Obi-Wan gave a shaky smile at his word, almost as if he weren’t completely sure what to do with that particular sentence, before shaking his head slightly. “That doesn’t answer the question, Master.”

Habit. It was nothing more than habit that made Obi-Wan call him that, a habit that needed breaking, no matter how enticing those words were. And while it gave him a couple heartbeats pause, Qui-Gon made himself push through all of this.

“I would prefer not to have to suffer a heat at all.” Obi-Wan couldn’t claim he wasn’t being honest with that particular answer.

A soft chuckle came from the redhead and Qui-Gon couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a slight smile in response. One day, he might eventually manage to get over this inappropriate attachment to his Padawan. Today, however, was definitely not that day and the laugh, as short as it had been, had warmed him in a way he would never admit to anyone.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want to either.” Obi-Wan’s right hand twitched faintly and Qui-Gon was all but certain that the younger man was missing his Padawan braid at the moment and would have pulled at it even after the last couple of years since his Knighting. “But I kind of meant, would you prefer I helped you, or would it be better if I just told the Skitalans that you’re ill and play interference until the heat passes on its own?”

Qui-Gon sighed heavily. It seemed there was no way to avoid answering the younger man’s question. And oh how he wished he could. If he could approach this like he had with so many other Alphas over the years, maybe he could get through this with his pride intact. Too bad that Obi-Wan seemed determined to destroy his ability to lie to himself about just how deep his attachment went in regards to the redhead.

“I have no objections to your help…” At least none that could be spoken of outloud. “Should you want to give it.”

Beautiful green eyes studied Qui-Gon for a long moment and he almost wondered if Obi-Wan had seen through his lie before the redhead nodded to him. “I’ll just let the Skitalans know that you’re sick and that I’ll need to tend to you so you heal quickly and can get back to the mission.”

The brunet took a deep breath and nodded in return. Watching the younger Jedi stand and slip from the room, Qui-Gon took a short moment to collect himself and push aside the emotions that wanted to rear their ugly heads. Once he’d centered himself as much as he could, the tall Omega stood and started to pull the bed apart.

Blankets and cushions were tossed to the floor next to the cushions next to the table already to form what he hoped would be a semi-comfortable pallet. It was at least better than the hard floor, that was an experience he’d done all he could not to repeat, and that would have to do for the time being.


End file.
